Blackmailed
by enchanttheme
Summary: Would time help nurture a promise or would it bury the promise along with the past? [Sequel to the Devil's First Zero]
1. PROLOGUE

USUAL DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN EYESHIELD 21 OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS PERSE.

A/N: Finally, I started working on the sequel! I would have not thought of making this sequel if not for you readers who supported the Devil's First Zero. No better words could explain my gratitude except from every word that would comprise this new story of mine. Excuse my sappyness but I was deeply overwhelmed by your support. So thank you. I hope you'd like this!

The backstage staff and crew restlessly spun about as the floor director endelssly barked orders, ensuring the fluid excecution of the plan and the avoidance of major lags for the event.

The event.

Her introduction.

Her first catwalk.

The beginning of everything she could ever hope for...

Or could it be the ending?

"No turning back now. You've worked hard enough to get here, don't chicken out now." she mumbled to herself.

The endless shifting and turning of models did nothing to help ease out her thunderous nerves.

Focus Mamori. Focus.

The events director clapped to get everyone's attention., "Ten minutes, everyone."

Oh my.

Mamori started straightening her unwrinkled ensemble.

Her hands were suddenly damp.

Her mind unsuprisingly blank.

Her feet numb.

Could she really do this?

She thought of soothing words but was not appeased in the least.

She could imagine the eager crowd outside, from the rich and famous to the reporters and writers.

They could be harsh.

The world could be harsher.

Especially for a novice like her. But she had already faced the worst of all fears... she had faced the devil himself did she not. She had fought him toe to toe so facing the crowd outside would just be a breeze for her.

It should be.

She did not come here in Milan unprepared. She was coached by some of the best in the industry and the training was no walk in the park. Who would have ever thought that there was a right balance for walking. She clearly remembered what her poise instructor told her at the beginning of their session, _you walk like a madman_. So that night she sulked like a madman. But the day after, she came to their session with a renewed spirit. She was tenacious Mamori after all.

For six months, she had slaved and toiled herself to death so that she can be _the_ supermodel. She would not let everyone's efforts go to waste.

Slowly she regained her confidence back.

She would deliver.

"Places everyone."


	2. Chapter 1

USUAL DISCLAIMER APPLIES!

A/N: Well there's a bit of lemon in this chapter so warning to young readers, read at your own discretion. I was hesitant about placing a lemon here but I won't have it any other way. This is also the first time I wrote one so please excuse me if it's not the least bit sensual. And I want it done as artfully as possible and not like some porn scene material.

Well I'm crossing my fingers that you'd still like it just the same.

****WARNING A BIT OF LEMON AHEAD****

She bit her lips harder, afraid that if she made even the slightest of sounds he would stop. And by gods, she doesn't want him to stop.

No, not by a long shot.

He pumped her like a virtuoso, each sinful stroke taking her on the brink of madness and sexual euphoria. He teased her by deliberately ramming his throbbing manliness in long languid strokes, leaving her impatient and greedy for more. However, as she was not allowed to make any kind of protest, she clenched the satin sheets tighter and angled her ass higher, meeting him thrust per delicious thrust, taking his huge sex deep inside her. Until his tempo changed and he came in and out of her hard and fast, his balls slapping her ass.

Exhilarated, she pushed against him.

Again and again.

Her wet portal lubricating his sleek pounding.

Her tongue tasted blood from her rough biting as she muffled a moan from escaping her lips.

She was nearing her explosive climax, sensing it too, he played with her nub and massaged her outer lip with her juices.

She saw stars.

She felt achingly hot as she throbbed like mad.

In seconds, sensations filled her.

Pleasure built inside her.

She was transported to another planet as she spasmed violently and was rocketed back to earth as she shook from her orgasmic release.

Her knees barely supported her as the aftershock tingled in between her core. He continued to pound inside her, seeking his own release.

Not a minute too long, he came and shot his seeds.

Unsurprisingly, she came again.

Face first, she weakly collapsed on the bed while he withdrew himself out of her.

The smell of great sex enveloped the air.

The absence of bodies slamming onto one another made the silence.

She was momentarily deaf to the world, when finally she heard the slight shuffling of clothes.

With her last ounce of strength, she flipped herself over, her back now resting on the bed. She surveyed the dark room and her searching eyes landed on the sexiest and most dangerous man she had ever seen.

Illuminated by the moonlight, his soft blond hair glowed. His slightly tanned skin seemingly darkened. And her hands suddenly itched to touch, to explore. To feel his well-toned body rubbing against her soft pliant ones while he plunged into her wet pulsating womanhood.

She licked her red lips.

"Why don't I clean you up first before you go?" she invited, boldly looking down at his anatomy.

He raised his right eyebrow, his liquid green eyes toned darker hinting danger but still, he dismissed her altogether and continued zipping his pants.

"Don't you want another round?" she unwittingly continued, oblivious of the trouble she was getting herself into.

"Stop talking nonsense."

Undeterred, she countered suggestively, "Oh then why don't you shut me up.", her mind conjuring mental images of how he could shut her up.

Her nipples peaked from anticipation.

"Kekeke." a gun was suddenly in his hands.

Color drained from her face.

"Not a damn noise."

She pursed her lips and even stopped breathing.

He kicked the door of the hotel room open and left, not minding to close it.

When he was out of sight, she sagged on the bed.

So the rumors were true.

He was indeed a killer in bed, figuratively and literally _if provoked_.

She looked at the digital clock on the nightstand.

Twelve midnight on the dot.

She had experienced being devoured by the renowned devil himself.

For an hour.

Just like every other female he temporarily fancied.

Though they tried… tried to hold his attention for more than an hour but not one has succeeded.

The slippery devil was still at large.

And his black heart still safely chained at the depths of his soul.

Guarded?

Yes.

Untouched?

Only the devil knows.

A/N: So I'm starting the chapters short. I'm still on the process of developing the characters as I go along. Ain't this a nice one for Hiruma? Does it make you want to ask for more updates? I hope a resounding yes would be your answer!


	3. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: NO, I DO NOT OWN EYESHIELD 21 OR ANY OTHER ANIME FOR THAT MATTER.

A/N: This chapter update will probably cement where the story will be coming from. Read on!

Hiruma impatiently descended the top floor of the hotel's building while his hands rested comfortably inside his trouser's pockets.

_Che. Females. Give them a bit of attention and they go panting for more._

Indeed, he had a satisfying fuck. The pesky red head had serviced him well but she had no business asking for something he would never give. Females were made for one reason and one reason only ~ for a man's pleasure and nothing else. They had no right to ask for more.

_Can't this damn elevator go any faster?!_

As if in response to his intolerance, the elevator chimed.

With one long stride, he stepped out of his temporary confinement, cursed, and strolled out of the lobby just as his private mobile phone rang.

"Where the hell are you?" the voice from the other line began in greeting. "Don't you know that you have an early corporate meeting tomorrow at seven?"

"Ke. I pay you to be my damn executive assistant, not my fucking keeper." he replied impetuously.

"And why I accepted the job is beyond me." the executive assistant murmured on the line, which did not go unheard of by Hiruma's keen ears.

Both parties knew the answer to that. No executive assistant would last an hour with Hiruma.

No human being could.

When the devil was around a dark heavy aura always loomed the air even living plants wilt at his very presence, how more the people. Add the fact that he possessed the most endearing of qualities inexistent to man. He was in no doubt the last person on earth one would enjoy one's company with... except of course for half of the brainless female population whose cognitive functions were in their nether regions instead of up. How they survived in his presence, only they knew... but then, maybe, he could understand the women on that part a little.

No woman in her right mind would pass up an opportunity to reel in the fattest fish in the ocean, which as he thought now made him grimaced, if Hiruma found out that they were comparing him to a fish, of all things, hell would break loose. But Hiruma does indeed have a fat bank account. He was in fact one of the richest men alive, owning a string of large corporations and major stock holidngs made his fortunes continuously pile up. There was no stopping his money from multiplying over and over.

Then there was power. He had heard that no man could be more attractive than one who possessed ultimate control. And who else was the best example for that than Hiruma himself. For the past years, he had become more powerful than ever, his control had long spanned to the ends of the world. Even the merest mention of his name sent shivers to everyone's spine.

Everyone has heard of his _remarkable_ track record to boot, most were true but some were just plainly too far-fetched. But instead of finding insult to the injury, he was rather pleased with the misassumption.

The devil.

And to think, he holds one of the largest PR companies in the world.

He could still remember how odd he looked at Hiruma when he inquired as to the acquisition of the PR company, all he said was, "Kekeke. Blackmail material. I get to use centurybold dark secrets and acquire new livid ones. A damn win-win."

Well it was indeed one ingenious plan, he admitted to himself. And not before long, throngs of influential clients came to their PR company, all involuntarily. Who in their right minds would want to ask help from the soulless creature himself but they had no other choice, for it was either they sell their souls to the devil or lose everything. Not a healthy comparison, they knew, for either choice would make them lose everything but with the devil they lose everything and still have everything, unless they make him unhappy of course.

That was Hiruma for you, one sneaky bastard.

And he delighted in being called one.

The fucker.

He shook his head in disapproval as though Hiruma was in front of him.

Any other reason for women continuously flocking to Hiruma, he does not have the remotest of ideas. And how and why Hiruma could loiter from one fuck to another… well, he cleared his throat, finding it suddenly dry. They were men and they had _needs_.

Alas the wonders of the female species never fail to give him a headache.

He sighed. "Just get yourself home Hiruma. I don't care what activities you have endeavored for yourself today_..." though I have an inkling as to what_ "... Just get enough sleep. I don't want you coming in the office with the sourest of moods due to your own doing. We don't want another executive personnel sent to the E.R. because you almost grazed his head with your real ammos."

He was exasperated and Hiruma knew it.

And the devil always enjoyed an entertainment.

"Kekeke, shut your trap fucking old man. I could blast you for that speech."

Unaffected of the devil's threat, he continued, _sometimes the devil's bark is just the devil's bark_, "It's been ten years Hiruma, now I look as old as everyone my age is supposed to look. And as for me being your executive assistant for just as long, I know when to shut up and when to not."

His only reply was the sound of the line being cut.

Some things never change.

00000000000

The morning San Francisco air glistened with sweat and pollution as vehicles pedalled their way through traffic.

Cars' screeching and horning were the town's morning music as hurried pedestrians crossed the streets, shoes clicking with the hard asphalt.

All this added to the devil's irritation.

Morning traffic had a way of making him edgy.

Not good for his impending meeting.

Once the traffic started moving, he rounded the corner and parked his car on the first free space he could find, obliterating the thought of parking his car on the executive space. He was in no mood to drive further down his designated slot.

He stepped out of his car.

The parking attendant, having knowledge of the owner of the said car, cowered in place, "G-g-g-g-g-g-g-good morning Sir."

His sensitive ears moved in annoyance with the noise, hearing enough for one day.

He stopped shortly at the attendant's post and gave him a dark withering glare.

The attendant fainted in to place.

"Ke."

Hiruma entered the tall unconventional building with a tower shaped like bat wings and a heading in deep blood red which read, DB Holdings Inc.

As he entered, all were indecisive whether to bow their heads in customary greeting or just plainly stay the hell out of his way, especially now when he looked murderous with intent.

Everyone hesitated. It was seldom that their devil boss came to work in the morning. He preferred working during the night.

Their brain tuned in survival mode, a memory suddenly clicked. One morning a newly hired employee came towards the deadly hunter and bowed half of his body in gracious salutation, such good intentions would have been easily dismissed with nonchalance if only he calculated his imminent trajectory for that dangerous maneuver, in effect avoiding the collision with the untouchable Hiruma. But alas, it was just his badluck when his forehead went straight to the devil's unsuspecting shoulder. The devil's eyes closed into slits and doom was at its ends, a succession of loud explosions were heard by neighboring companies, making them hide under their desks. They worked the next day in filth and with falling debris.

With that clear in their minds, they voluntarily stepped away from his peripheral vision and watched in vigilance as he strode to his private lift.

When the door for his private lift closed, everyone expelled their breaths.

0000000

One look at Hiruma and Musashi knew that this would be a dangerous meeting altogether. The executives will surely be tiptoeing on eggshells. He just wished that none would crack.

Without a word, he gave Hiruma the agenda for the meeting.

The devil accepted it only to toss it back on the nearest desk.

Not good. Definitely not good.

He thought of the only thing that could somehow assuage his foul attitude, "Coffee?"

The offer was left unanswered but Musashi already went near the coffee maker. Hot black liquid was poured on a coffee mug.

He offered the steaming cup to Hiruma which the latter silently accepted.

The crease in Hiruma's brows straightened a little.

Ah, good sign.

He could see the clearing of his face as he sipped the last drop of his coffee.

Musahi imaginarily patted his back.

The impending storm has passed.

Hiruma's private line rang.

Musashi hurriedly answered the phone, "DB Holding's."

He nodded as he listened to the man on the other line speak and not before long he placed the phone down.

He faced Hiruma, "The stadium is already in its final construction. He said you can come down anytime to supervise everything."

Now that more than brightened the devil's day.

"Cancel the damn meeting, we're going."

A/N: My sincerest apologies for the long update. It's a bit hard juggling daily activities with two fanfictions but your support makes me strong so with little sleep, I finally had a face to face session with my laptop.


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